


Pen Pals

by Choke-a-Bro (Vanya_Deyja)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: AU, Character Death, M/M, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:01:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22752181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanya_Deyja/pseuds/Choke-a-Bro
Summary: Before she dies Lunafreya entrusts Prince Prompto with her most precious possession; a notebook she uses to communicate with her pen pal.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 19
Kudos: 208





	Pen Pals

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure if this counts as the same vein as the others lately? Not sure. Anyway angst and fluff and intrigue abounds!

Prince Prompto of Niflheim doesn’t approve of much his family does in the name of glory but as a second son he’s almost powerless to stop it. He especially hates when Lady Lunafreya and Prince Ravus are dragged to Gralea as prisoners, barely older than him, already bruised from mistreatment.

Lady Luna is a force however and totally unwavering in her perfect kindness. Prompto tries to apologise on behalf of his kin, eight years old and already intensely guilty, but Lady Luna just takes his hand and says;

“Let’s be friends, Prompto. That would give me the greatest happiness you could imagine.”

Prompto doesn’t know what to say that day so he just nods, helpless but desperate to do _something_.

For the next twelve years he and Lady Luna are the best of friends. He spends many hours in her company, laughing and smiling, and there’s not a sweeter soul at court. Prompto is too soft for much of his kin, too emotional, but Luna likes him just the way he is.

Prompto’s grandfather, the Emperor, encourages the friendship if only in hopes of securing a strong political marriage for his family. Niflheim is technologically advanced of course but Eos is a land of magic and they have none.

As Prompto grows older Luna grows sicker. The burden of the gods is heavy upon her, especially with the starscourge ravaging the land, and she took the weight of her calling very young. Most Oracles get to have a childhood, time to grow, but Luna is exhausted before she’s even hit puberty. It’s eventually determined Luna will never have the strength to carry a child of her own and her line must continue through Ravus. Still, Luna carries out her responsibilities until, when Prompto is eighteen, she is rendered more and more bedridden.

Prompto visits her every day in her final months. He’s twenty now. Attending classes on art and journalism, things no one cares about, at the University of Gralea. He knows Luna is dying but he can’t imagine losing her. He can’t imagine the weight of knowing his family, one way or another, killed both Luna and her mother.

“Prom,” Luna murmurs from her bed, “help me sit up?”

Prompto does, gently, but even sitting is strenuous for Luna and she has to take of her breathing mask off to talk to him. She leans forward in the bed, reaching for Umbra where he’s curled around her feet, and reaching into his bandanna pulls out a notebook.

“I want to give you this, Prom.” Luna explains.

“What is it?” Prompto whispers.

“Magic.” Luna smiles knowingly. 

“Magic?” Prompto repeats.

“I have an old friend your family would not approve of, Prom, and this is the only way I can speak with him anymore.” Luna explains, handing Prompto the notebook. “It is my dearest wish that you two should become friends.”

“But…” Prompto is afraid to open the book. He just traces the cover. “I don’t know anything about magic, Luna.”

“Just write in the book,” Luna presses, “and give it to Umbra when you’re ready. He knows what to do. He’ll take the book back and forth. He has his ways.”

“This is your secret,” Prompto digests. “I don’t know if I’m worthy of it.”

“Prompto you are one of the kindest people I have ever met,” Luna insists with a firmness uncharacteristic of her ailing health, “and the boy I write to rivals even your sweetness. I can’t leave you two alone. If I am gone I need to know you have each other. Please, Prom, give me that peace.”

“I’ll…” Prompto wavers, heart churning. “I’ll do my best, Luna.”

He can’t deny her anything. 

* * *

Luna passes that evening, goes out with the sunset, and Prompto is so distraught all he can do is hold her notebook and sob ugly tears. He gathers the courage to open it eventually but he’s crying so hard it’s difficult to read anything. He doesn’t want to spy on Luna’s old letters, even if he does want to hear her voice somehow, so he tries not to take anything in.

The handwriting is so… _informal_.

It doesn’t look like Luna was writing to some powerful, supernatural, entity. Just another teenager. Their letters are scrawled across the pages, sometimes in the same pages, across years and there are a million doodles and increasingly ridiculous smiley faces.

The last letter Luna received came little over a month ago. It’s signed; _‘sending you all my love, Lulu._ ’

Prompto imagines out there, somewhere, someone is missing Luna and with the press release delayed he might not even know Luna is gone yet. Prompto can’t stand it.

He pulls a pen off his desk.

He hesitates. Luna and her friend didn’t seem to put much identifying information in their letters. Why should they? They both knew who they were talking to. Prompto doesn’t know this stranger. He could be anyone and what if the letter is intercepted? Could Prompto put himself or the recipient in danger? Just the same Prompto’s ashamed to admit who he is to Luna’s friend. How would he even phrase it? I am the son of the man who murdered her mother? Who ruined her life? 

Prompto decides not to make his identity clear and starts writing.

_Friend of Luna,  
I’m writing this to you unsure what to even say. I am so sorry to tell you that Luna passed away this afternoon in her bed in Gralea. She was as comfortable as they could make her but you probably know she’s been very unwell for a long time. I don’t think I can stop crying. Luna gave me this book when I saw her. She said she wanted me to write to you. I was her friend or tried my best to be. I thought you should hear the news from someone who loved her. I hope you’re safe, as I’m sure she would want you to be, and I’m so sorry. She was incredible and Eos is worse without her. _

Umbra seems to appear out of nowhere in the following moments, when Prompto closes the book, and Prompto’s sure he spends at least ten minutes petting and nuzzling the dog while he cries. He hands over the notebook, still burdened with impossible guilt, and collapses into his bed unable to sleep for hours.

Prompto almost forgets about the book before he sees it again. It returns three weeks later, tucked in Umbra’s pack, and Prompto is immediately terrified to open it. He’s sure Luna would want him to read it though and the thought of her, however painful, is the only thing that compels him to open the book.

_Stranger,  
Thanks. I heard on the news ~~and I’m just~~ but it still doesn’t feel real. I’ve only had Luna’s letters for so long. I was hoping so hard I’d get to see her again, in person, even just once. We couldn’t have phone calls or anything like that and its’ been years since I got to hold her hand. She was fucking amazing. I miss her so much. If she gave you this you must be a good friend. I’m not sure what Luna asked you to do next but I probably can’t do anything except cause you trouble. Especially if you’re in Niflheim too. Thanks again. All I ask is that you send the book back one last time so I can hold onto it. It’s all Luna and I had for so long._

Prompto sags at the edge of his bed. It’s such a gentle response. Prompto’s not sure why but he expected something more accusatory, angry even, but Luna’s friend seems just to be grieving as desperately as Prompto. Prompto has to admit he doesn’t know why he was worried; Luna wouldn’t be friends with a cruel person.

Prompto knows he should just send the book back. Luna’s friend deserves a keepsake of her. Prompto has their photos and some things from Luna’s estate Ravus gave him but on the other side of the world or who knows where Luna’s friend doesn’t have anything.

Prompto knows he should just leave it there but…

_Friend of Luna,  
I know its stupid but I feel closer to Luna when I read this book, when I write in it… I just don’t want to lose that feeling of her yet. Can you talk to me a little longer? Please? What was your favourite thing about Luna…? _

For a while Prompto doesn’t know if the note book is going to come back. Luna’s friend doesn’t owe him anything. They don’t have to indulge him or his fancies. He hopes they will, hopes they’ll write back, but he starts to assume maybe they won’t. Why should they?

Then, again, the book comes back.

_Stranger,  
I understand. Luna helped me when I was sick. We were both just kids then. I didn’t expect the magic dog delivery service but I was so glad to talk to her somehow after Tenebrae got conquered. I just wanted to know she was safe but I’m sure there’s things she didn’t tell me so I wouldn’t worry so much. Didn’t work. I still worried. _

_My favourite thing about here was how much of a nerd she was. We used to make sure not to talk about new comics until it was released in both our countries so we wouldn’t give each other spoilers. She hated spoilers. I like them sometimes, they get me hyped. I never admitted it to her but she got me to read this stupid romance novel she loved. I told her it was sappy and weird and it is but I’ve read it a hundred times now. She always knew just what I would like. Sometimes even better than me._

Prompto laughs weakly, cradling the book. Luna helped so many sick people during her life. He supposes its not terribly odd she would stay in touch with some of them. Her friend is definitely not a Niff, which is fine, but Prompto doesn’t want to put him in danger either. He has to be careful.

_Friend of Luna,  
I live in Gralea and I went to court with Luna. We agreed on a lot of things when it came to politics, that’s for sure. I don’t think people always treated her like they should’ve but Ravus protected her as best he could and I tried, however stupidly, to make her smile when I could. _

_Luna and I used to watch all sorts of stupid shows. She loved this high school drama here in Niflheim. It has like ten seasons and its really dumb but we got so into it. Court can be so formal and stuck up. It was nice just to be a teenager with Luna. I’m sure she knew you liked the book. She always knew when I was lying; she was magic like that._

* * *

Prompto and Luna’s Friend write to each other for months in secret. Prompto doesn’t ask for names and neither does Luna’s Friend. They both seem to appreciate what they’re doing is dangerous.

Prompto does learn a few things though; Luna’s friend is sarcastic and clever, he’s creative and sweet, and he’s _Lucian_. It comes out through vague hints and occasional references but Prompto pieces together eventually that Luna’s Friend has to be Lucian. That’s dangerous, wildly so. They’re at war with Lucis. But Prompto writes back anyway. After all, Luna’s friend knows Prompto’s a courtly Niff so that’s just as bad really.

Prompto’s never been allowed to talk to anyone from Lucis. He’s been told horror stories his whole life but Luna’s friend seems just like him. Just a young, sweet, silly, young man grieving an incredible girl they both loved desperately. 

Slowly Luna dominates their letters less and less. It’s not that they forget about her. They talk about her all the time. But she’s not the centre of everything anymore. Prompto just likes to hear what’s going on in his pen-pal’s life. They talk about games, movies, college… They try to steer clear of the war or religion but Prompto gleans from passing comments that in some ways they seem to have very similar opinions on the matter.

Prompto’s pen-pal becomes a source of relief, a voice he looks forward to every month, a soft delight. Prompto wants to meet him, show him Luna’s things, hug him the way Luna probably wished she could every day. Prompto doesn’t have many friends in Niflheim. Here he’s an odd peg in a rigid hole most days. But Luna’s friend? Prompto can talk to them. They seem the loveliest person in the world.

One day Prompto gets a chance and he takes it;

_Friend of Luna,  
I’m coming to Lucis at the end of the summer with the Niff delegation. I don’t know how we’d managed it exactly but I would do anything to meet you. Is there any chance you can be in Insomnia during the delegation? If you can I’ll find a way to you. Please? _

Prompto is packing for the delegation when his reply arrives.

_Stranger,  
I’ll do you one better; I’ll be at the royal court. I better not put anything in writing here but keep your eyes open and we’ll find each other one way or another. I can’t wait to meet you. _

Prompto almost drops the book.

* * *

“What’re you so restless about?” Loqi, Prompto’s brother, hassles as they drive from the airfield towards Insomnia. “We’re just meeting some savages.”

“It’s still exciting, don’t you think?” Prompto fumbles, trying to cover his anticipation as something else. “I’ve never been outside Niflheim.”

“There’s not much worth seeing outside Niflheim.” Loqi maintains firmly.

Loqi, Prompto and their grandfather Iedolas have all made the trip to Lucis for the delegation. Prompto knows his grandfather and father would much sooner conquer Lucis than make peace with them but the Lucians are fierce warriors. They’ve tried countless times but they can’t get a foothold on the continent and Lucis is starting to push out bolstering Accordo’s defences and circling Tenebrae hungrily. Lucis wants vengeance. They see Niflheim as usurpers, corrupters of the natural order and peace of Eos, and they will not back down so ultimately the Niffs have to make nice.

Insomnia is more beautiful than Prompto could’ve imagined honestly. The city has two thousand years of history and the sky ripples with the King’s forcefield; _the Wall_ , as the locals call it. Prompto’s never gone to war so he’s never even seen real magic up close. Just what Luna would do for him. 

Loqi has gone to war though and when they arrive at King Regis’ court its painfully obvious both crown princes know each other from conflicts abroad. Loqi is supposed to be playing nice but he can’t help but glare at Prince Noctis when they meet, still sour from having been defeated by the Lucian in two previous battles. Prompto isn’t sure how he can possibly smooth it over when it’s his turn but then Prince Noctis greets Loqi like he doesn’t even remember him at all, even if he does, and that just infuriates Loqi further. He’s _fuming_.

“Highness,” Prompto steps up, his best smile at the ready.

“Prince Prompto,” the Lucian greets. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Prompto smiles but his expression falters uncertainly when he realises that with that tone and that level expression he can’t tell if Prince Noctis means that or would rather rip his guts out. Prince Noctis watches his smile waver and offers no comfort.

Well, that answers that….

Prompto swallows and steps back.

Prompto wishes there could be peace. It would’ve made Luna so happy. Hell, it would make the people of Eos so happy. If Prompto could secure such a peace…

But Prompto’s a second son. No one cares what he wants.

Prompto tries not to let the stiffness of the reception get to him. He can’t control the delegation. All he can do is look for his pen-pal. That’s what matters.

Prompto is given a chance that evening when King Regis throws them a ball. Most of the Lucian court are in attendance and the Niffs are almost thirty strong with nobles and generals alone so there’s a great deal of socialising to be done.

Prompto knows Luna’s friend is his age so he tries to use that to narrow down his search but he realises he doesn’t know if Luna’s friend is a fellow noble or a guard. He could be an on duty Kingsglaive for all Prompto knows. How is Prompto supposed to signal to them he’s here? How can he communicate his intentions?

He tries to make nice with the Lucians, charming as you like, but they’re all so prepared and proper Prompto knows he’s not making himself clear. There’s no recognition in any of their faces. He frets, sipping a glass of champagne at the perimeter of the ball, and tries to think clearly. How can he make himself obvious?

Prompto spots Prince Noctis and an uncomfortable thought occurs to him. It’s a bit of a wild card but Prompto’s willing to play the gambit if it means he could get closer to his target.

He’s terrified to approach Prince Noctis but he forces down his nerves and alerts the Prince of his presence without ever touching him. He suspects Prince Noctis could break his knuckles if he touched him without permission and he doubts the foreign Prince would hesitate.

“Might we dance, Highness?” Prompto offers, friendly.

“I’m afraid I’m not much of a dancer, Prince Prompto,” the Lucian murmurs, arms mostly folded. “You’ll find Lord Scientia much better equipped in that regard.”

“My brother tells me you’re an amazing warrior.” Prompto tries to press. “I’m sure you can’t be that bad with your feet if that’s true?”

Prompto means it as a tease, as a friendly joke, but Prince Noctis looks at him sideways and Prompto realises too late the Prince thinks he’s trying to make a genuine jab at him. Prompto can’t control how he winces but he holds his ground.

“Well, if you insist,” Prince Noctis gestures to the dance floor coolly.

Prompto follows the Prince onto the dance floor and tries not to tremble as Prince Noctis’ arms settle around him. It’s a classic posture and Prompto immediately surrenders to letting Noctis lead the dance but Prince Noctis is a warrior and Prompto is not so his arms, however lean, seem much stronger than Prompto’s.

Prompto hopes Prince Noctis will make conversation but the Lucian withholds such satisfaction from him so Prompto has to open the topic himself without any build up.

“It’s good to see everyone coming together,” Prompto starts, “especially after the tragedies of the past year.”

“Do you mean your attempted conquest of Accordo or your sacking of Tenebrae’s holy relics?” Prince Noctis deadpans calmly.

“I-I meant Lady Lunafreya’s passing,” Prompto fumbles, guilty to his bones. Still he pushes on, trying, hoping. “She was very loved all across Eos. I’m sure there are many in Lucis who mourned her too.”

“You’d be correct,” Prince Noctis seems to twitch, holding Prompto a little tighter than is strictly comfortable. “Lady Lunafreya was an Oracle of the highest calibre and we are bereft to be without her. That said I’m sure, as her captors, you must miss her with a different kind of zeal.”

Prompto pales, mortified, and Prince Noctis doesn’t immediately let him slip back as he tries to instinctively. It’s true. Prompto knows it’s true. And that’s why it hurts so desperately.

The song ends and as the music lulls before the next song Prince Noctis consents to release Prompto from his intense orbit. Prompto fumbles through a thanks, a polite gesture, and hurries away before anyone can stop him.

He’s not sure where he’s going. He doesn’t know the palace. He just doesn’t want to be in the ballroom when he bursts into tears.

He finds himself in the greenhouses, Insomnia’s famous hanging gardens, and in a darkened alcove he buries his face into his hands and starts to sob wretchedly. Prince Noctis is angry but he’s right. Prompto’s family are terrible, awful, conniving people. They just want power and glory and land. They’re conquerors. Luna died because of their greed and thousands of other people have suffered the same fate. Prompto’s family is only here today because they can’t clobber Lucis into submission too and Lucis knows it. Prince Noctis sees what he is and he rightfully hates him. Prompto deserves that. Luna would still be alive if it wasn’t for his family. And here he is, trying to play nice, looking for his own scheme, thinking he deserves to smile at someone who loved Luna and never hurt her like his people did every day for _years_.

“Excuse me, Highness,” a soft voice interrupts him gently.

Prompto lurches, face puffy and red, immediately humiliated.

It’s a Kingsglaive. He’s taller, older, the sides of his head shaved back to accentuated beautiful braids. He’s standing there, in the low light, offering Prompto a handkerchief.

“Apologies if this is outta line, Highness,” the Glaive murmurs, “but please don’t take it personal. Prince Noctis has been very upset since the Oracle died. They were friends.”

Prompto sniffs, looking like a wreck, and sheepishly takes the handkerchief.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I didn’t realise…”

“Prince Noctis met her during a visit to Tenebrae. He always spoke very highly of her. I think it’s just a raw nerve.” The Glaive shrugs. “May I escort you back inside, Highness? You’re safer inside.”

“Can I just have a moment to…?” Prompto takes a deep breath, rubbing at his face with the Glaive’s handkerchief.

“Of course, I’ll give you a moment to freshen up,” the Glaive assures, turning around politely.

Prompto dabs his face, clearing up the tears, and tries to take a deep breath.

Something occurs to him.

“Sir,” Prompto calls uncertainly, “did you say Prince Noctis met Lady Luna?”

“Yes Highness,” the Glaive answers without turning around. “He visited the country when he was a child.” 

Could…?

Prompto feels his head spinning.

He needs to find out.

* * *

Prompto paces his room in the Citadel and he supposes he’s praying, technically, but in a more literal sense he’s trying to summon a magic dog. It takes a little while, hoping and praying, but then he turns around in his pace and Umbra is there on the rug. Prompto cheers and snatches the notebook.

_Friend,  
I have made it safely to court. Tomorrow I’ll be wearing a red wristband. Find me?_

Prompto knows the notebook has less distance to travel tonight and even if it is intercepted a little wristband is fairly casual. Prompto can pass his wearing it off as a coincidence if anyone interrogates him. Still it should be plenty clear enough for whoever’s looking for it.

Prompto tells himself he can do this. Luna wanted he and her old friend to find each other. Prompto wants to give her spirit that satisfaction. Besides, if Luna’s friend is indeed the crown prince of Lucis…

Well, maybe then Prompto could do something good. Maybe he could broker a peace. His family might not listen to him but maybe his pen-pal would?

Prompto is trembling the next morning when he gets dressed. While Iedolas and King Regis meet, alongside their ministers and such, the princes are spending some time together around the Citadel and Insomnia. Prompto doesn’t imagine he’ll be able to do or say much properly with Loqi there but if Prince Noctis is his pen-pal…

Well, very quickly, Prompto starts to lose hope.

Prince Noctis doesn’t seem to pay his wrist any attention, no matter how many times Prompto worries his wristband, he’s spends most of the morning walking a fine, thin, line with Prompto’s grumpy bother. They’re shown around various parts of the Citadel by the Prince’s Advisor, Lord Scientia, and when they make it to the training arena Loqi tries to lure Prince Noctis into a duel.

Prince Noctis obviously wants to rise to the occasion but his Shield, Lord Amicitia, takes the challenge perhaps in an attempt to maintain some propriety. If the princes get too aggressive with each other it’s an international incident but if Loqi throws a tantrum at Prince Noctis’ Shield it’s not such a huge deal.

Lord Scientia takes Prompto and Prince Noctis into an upper level of the arena so they can watch the duel properly. Loqi and Lord Amicitia are still getting changed, preparing to fight, when Prince Noctis comes to join Prompto at the railing.

Prompto’s arms are folded on the rail and Prince Noctis slouches down next to him, closer than he’s come to Prompto all morning, and Prompto feels his heart stutter.

This could be bad.

If Prince Noctis isn’t his pen-pal then he might be about to wretch Prompto into desperate tears again.

Prince Noctis taps the back of Prompto’s hand, very gently, and murmurs;

“Hello Stranger.”

Lord Scientia shouldn’t catch the implication there if he doesn’t know about the letters but Prompto does and all he can feel for a second is his stomach back flipping. He glances, sheepishly, to Prince Noctis and for the first time in two days the Prince’s expression softens beautifully. Prince Noctis looks at him with intent, with meaning, and he’s not grinning but the very corners of his lips are ever so gently perked, hopeful, and it’s like magic.

Prince Noctis is very, very, handsome when he’s not scowling.

Prompto feels his gut twist again.

“I’m sorry,” Prince Noctis whispers, fingers barely touching Prompto’s knuckles. Prompto knows the Prince wants to say more but its too dangerous with their retainers nearby. It’s okay though, Prompto can see a lot in his eyes now they’re open to him, and in those eyes is his friend as he knows him.

“It’s okay.” Prompto promises. “I understand.”

* * *

Loqi loses the bout with Lord Amicitia and he’s still sour about it when the royals from both nations settle down to have a private dinner. Prompto lets the tight conversation roll over him, trying at first to contain himself, but he feels something growing inside him. Maybe its strength, maybe its just desperation.

“And you’re studying, Prince Prompto?” King Regis asks, smile kinder than those he deals Prompto’s grandfather or surly brother.

“Yes,” Prompto smiles, “I’ve been thinking I should come study abroad, in Insomnia, if you’d have me Majesty. I think it’d be a great experience.”

Loqi chokes on his drink, audibly.

Grandfather Iedolas looks _pissed_.

Prompto hasn’t run the idea pass either of them. He’s just asserting it, openly, before their political enemies. He’s offering himself, like a willing hostage, and he knows he’s going to get berated as soon as their alone but he’s not sorry and he refuses to back down.

King Regis looks gently uncertain, like he’s not sure if he trusts Prompto’s intentions are good, but Prince Noctis slides to Prompto’s aid casually;

“I think that’s a great idea.” He declares. “If we’re going to be allies I don’t see why we can’t travel more freely.”

King Regis looks at his son, searching for something, and Noctis responds somehow with those magical eyes and King Regis seems to catch whatever he’s been looking for.

“We’d certainly love to have you, Prince Prompto,” Regis assures. “I’m sure we can make accommodations and security arrangements befitting your station. Noctis is attending Insomnia’s best university when he’s not on the field.” 

“We’ll have to discuss it,” Iedolas speaks up finally, finding a way to assert himself without outright screeching at his grandson. “Prompto’s the youngest. I’m not sure how we’d ever part with him.”

“It’s difficult to watch the young ones grow up,” King Regis agrees amicably.

Dinner continues as best it can. When the Niffs leave to head back to their rooms Iedolas takes one surly look at his grandson and Prompto expects the worst but all Iedolas says is;

“Run your ideas past me at least, before you bring them into conversation, Prompto.”

“Apologies Grandfather,” Prompto nods, head down.

“I hope you meant that grand idea, boy.” Iedolas sighs. “I think the Lucians will hold us to it.”

“I meant it.” Prompto assures. “I hope you’ll consider it.”

“We’ll see what we can do.” Iedolas nods. “Goodnight boys.”

Loqi and Prompto mumble their farewells and head off towards their rooms. Loqi grabs Prompto before he can get to his door and yanks him close.

“ _Are you crazy?_ ” He hisses.

“They’re just people, Loqi.” Prompto maintains. “They’re a lot like us.”

“They’re _nothing_ like us.” Loqi snaps.

“No,” Prompto finds himself yanking free, “they’ve got a sense of honour.”

Loqi gawks, plainly startled, and once Prompto catches himself he’s equally shocked. Where did that even come from? Prompto’s never spoken out of turn at the best of times but with Loqi? Since when has he ever stood up to his brother? He can’t believe himself and he’s mortified but—

Loqi grunts, unimpressed and clearly disagreeing, but doesn’t fly into a rage. He doesn’t scream at Prompto, he doesn’t harass him, not like when they were children. Loqi actually doesn’t seem to know what to do with Prompto asserting himself. So, to Prompto’s amazement, _Loqi backs down_.

Loqi stalks to his suite, throwing his hands up, and slips away without another word.

Prompto feels his jaw slacken.

He’s never dared stand up to his family but… he never imagined they’d just back down either.

Prompto glances to the MT and Kingsglaive accompanying him. The MTs don’t react. They’re just machines, things. They don’t care about Prompto’s words just his position in the Imperial court. The Glaive? They meet Prompto’s eyes, perhaps for longer than they should, and one even nods, ever so subtly, at Prompto as if to express her agreement with his sentiment.

Prompto locks himself in his rooms.

* * *

Prompto can’t sleep. He’s thrown by his own mouth. Where did this certainty come from? Prompto’s not sure what exactly he wants in the long run but he does want to stay in Insomnia, get to know Prince Noctis properly, and in some ways that’s one way to strong arm his family into being peaceful. After all every time Grandfather considers launching a siege he’ll have to consider that Prompto is in Insomnia and could be used as a bargaining chip at any moment. Maybe the Lucians will take advantage of that and the Niffs absolutely would.

Prompto takes a deep breath, staring at the canopy of the bed. Luna knew who Prince Noctis was and she wanted he and Prompto to become friends. She must’ve wanted this, a proper peace, and if Prompto can honour her…

Prompto hears something, something _inside_ his rooms, and lurches up in bed.

He expects maybe Loqi, maybe a Glaive, but he finds Prince Noctis in the doorway to his bedroom knocking his knuckles gently on the frame. Prompto blinks.

“How did…?” He whispers.

“It’s an old place, the Citadel,” Prince Noctis shrugs. “Lots of secret passages.”

“No one saw you?” Prompto supposes.

“No one.” Prince Noctis promises.

Prompto slips out of bed and feels a little naked in his night things but doesn’t know where he left his stupid dressing gown. He approaches the Prince, finally alone and face to face with his friend, and doesn’t know what to expect let alone what to do.

Luckily for him Prince Noctis seems to have a little more confidence because he reaches for Prompto’s hand. Prompto gives it and Noctis squeezes his fingers tightly.

They stand there for a moment, barely touching, but somehow, all of a sudden, it doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel like _enough_.

Noctis tugs Prompto forward, closer, and Prompto doesn’t argue. His arms fumble up, wrapping around Noctis’ shoulders, and the Lucian Prince pulls him even closer, holding him so tight…

Prompto eases, just a fraction, face buried in Noctis’ neck. This feels right. This feels good. Its strange, sure, being held like a lover but…

“Didn’t expect you to be an enemy prince,” Noctis snorts, rubbing his back tenderly.

“Ditto,” Prompto murmurs.

“Figures Luna would pull something like this,” Noctis chuckles, obviously fond and bemused all at once.

“She was too clever.” Prompto smiles.

“I shouldn’t stay too long,” Noctis warns, “even if I’m dying to talk to you properly.”

“I understand,” Prompto sighs, unwilling to pull away for another minute.

“Can…” Noctis seems to be thinking something but hesitates and changes tangents to ask gently; “did you mean what you said about living here?”

“Absolutely,” Prompto swears. It’s going to be rough and complicated but he’d rather be here with people who loved Luna like he did. He’d rather be where he feels strong and listened too. Noctis, their weirdness, brings out a strength in him.

“Can…” Noctis circles back around to that word again. “Maybe it’s too soon but…can I kiss you…?”

Prompto feels a rush of heat flood his cheeks.

He’s kind of shy but, in his own way, he totally gets it.

“Honestly, since I realised who you are,” Noctis murmurs, “I’ve been wanting to kiss you. Maybe it’ll be weird but… I don’t know. I feel like you get it. I just want to be close.”

Prompto nods softly. “I get that,” he admits. “I’d like to try it, if that’s what you want?”

“That’s what I want,” Noctis nods.

“Then…?” Prompto laughs, a touch breathless.

Noctis purses his lips, that stern face again, but this time he’s evidently gathering his nerve for something much nicer than vengeance.

Prompto cups his cheek as Noctis dips down and it’s…

Prompto knows instantly he’s doomed.

Prompto feels like, even though they’ve just met, he’s been missing Noctis his whole life.

Noctis feels _right_.

Noctis kisses him slow and firm, like he wants to do a million things more, like he cares.

Prompto strokes his dark hair back and curls his fingers against the back of the Prince’s skull.

Noctis’ arms tighten around him, crushing him, and Prompto forgets how to breathe.

Luna must’ve known. Luna always knew what Prompto needed before he did. She must’ve know this is where he belongs. Maybe something good will come out of it in the long run but, even if it doesn’t, just being happy for a summer is more than Prompto could ask for.

Luna never got to fall in love or fight for justice.

Prompto will do his best to make her proud.

He’ll start by kissing Noctis _a lot_.


End file.
